- Jan 1, 2023
- 497
- 142
- 43
“Yeah, the vets say he’s microchipped, but when she talked to his owners they said they hadn’t seen him in over two years….. Yeah, no, exactly like, it’s a totally different cat! I’ve had to go get stitches twice just trying to pet him, I don’t know how he’s going to react to two children and a woman he hasn’t seen in years.”
In a small living room, Belphegor was settled by the window, staring down at a gap between the couch and the floor, where broad white mittens disappeared into the shadows. The tortoiseshell’s eyes were bored, but within their heart, a faint modicum of duty called. He understood, however briefly, what it meant to be a wild cat, the selflessness one must have to put their lives and reputation on the line for another. He did not like Silversmoke, Silversmoke did not like him, but they had been bound together by fate and now, they had to work together to unravel the threads.
He pawed at the window, meowing something indecipherable to both man and feline. When the Twoleg did not respond, he did it again, eliciting some sort of dismissive response from his owner. Belphegor’s ears flattened, disapproval shining within his frown. ”Come on… don’t keep us waiting.” The second, no, the third meow finally caused his Twoleg to stand up, moving over towards the window with a smile on his face. ”Yes, that’s it. Goooood Twoleg, open the nest.” A stitched-up hand scritched a special spot between Belphegor’s ears and he rolled his head into the sensation, purring. Now wasn’t the time for affection, but coming from someone who’d ignored him moments prior, it felt amazing.
Which made his Twoleg moving away from him feel like a cold cuff to the heart. The man looked around, left and right, under a table, then under a cupboard, and Belphegor’s stomach dropped the closer and closer he got to where he had been before. Another meow went ignored as his Twoleg got on all four paws to observe under the couch and Belphegor had to close his eyes, adamant their plan had failed before it even started. Then, he heard footsteps towards the doors, and they were promptly shut. His ears twitched, his gaze widening and going back towards the floor as if scanning for a mouse.
He almost missed his twoleg pulling the window frame upwards, the breeze brushing against his ginger-and-black fur, the positive affirmation that he was free to leave if he wanted to. But it wasn’t Belphegor who wanted to go. As if changing his mind, he moved to the closed door and began meowing at that instead. ”Nooooow come over here and open this part of the nest for me. Yes…. very good, feel free to check it, he’s not there.”
Silversmoke’s head popped out from behind the curtains, grey fur pressed against grey fabric, his heart beating so loudly he swore the whole world could hear it. The tortoiseshell guiding his Twoleg away as if he were the master and not the other way around had given him an opportunity he would never get again. A cone still sat around his neck, his back still itching madly, his belly snarling for real food, feeling weakened by eating the bare minimum to survive, feeling weakened by the constant fear of being in a home that was not his own. He could still taste the Twoleg’s blood on his tongue, the necessary step to ensure he did not lose his pride as a wildcat. It did not matter how good the human’s intentions, when he was a cat who’d promised his destiny to the pines, to devote his death to his one true love.
He sucked in the air, lungs rattling at the sensation. ’I can do this…’
’I have to do this.’
The spotted tabby ran at the open window, leaping with all the strength his hindlegs could give him. StarClan did not bless the home of the stranger, when he felt his limbs stagger against his own weight, he saw a vision of the future - a cat in a cage, surrounded by shattered teeth and broken dreams. He kicked out, catching the sill with his hind claws, and pushing himself up and over.
He landed on his paws outside, pain shooting through his limbs and up to his spine, where three healing scars threatened to break free. Tufted ears shot up immediately as footsteps clattered on a wooden floor inside. Through the discomfort, he did not think, could not think, lest he wish to be inside his prison once more. Silversmoke darted towards the fence, leaping atop a wheelbarrow, then a miniature shed, then, the wooden panels themself, dangling on the edge until he could drag himself up once more.
From the vantage point, he could not see home, but a half-moon had not dulled his senses. He knew where it would be, where it would always be so long as he drew breath. Silversmoke turned his head in that direction, whiskers twitching as a fresh breeze caught them for the first time in too long. The scents were not of home, but be it by illusion or chance, he swore that, somewhere between the smoke and trash, there were faint remnants of pine, of a Daylight Warrior whom he hoped had been waiting for him all this time.
His head turned back towards the home, spine arching as he saw a familiar figure run towards him. “I am Silversmoke, of SkyClan!” He hissed to the Twoleg, uncaring that the beast could not understand him. “I’m going home. StarClan help you if you try and stop me.” A naked paw reached out and Silversmoke kicked down to the other side of the fence, breaking out into a sprint. He would not say goodbye to the kittypet that saved him, or the home that had sheltered him, lest his dream of the forest be dead once more.
All Silversmoke could do was run. Run and run, run past the point of agony in his legs, past the point where his lungs could seldom breathe the smog-filled air of his former territory.
He would run until he saw the pine forest, and run even further until he saw the clan he loved.
In a small living room, Belphegor was settled by the window, staring down at a gap between the couch and the floor, where broad white mittens disappeared into the shadows. The tortoiseshell’s eyes were bored, but within their heart, a faint modicum of duty called. He understood, however briefly, what it meant to be a wild cat, the selflessness one must have to put their lives and reputation on the line for another. He did not like Silversmoke, Silversmoke did not like him, but they had been bound together by fate and now, they had to work together to unravel the threads.
He pawed at the window, meowing something indecipherable to both man and feline. When the Twoleg did not respond, he did it again, eliciting some sort of dismissive response from his owner. Belphegor’s ears flattened, disapproval shining within his frown. ”Come on… don’t keep us waiting.” The second, no, the third meow finally caused his Twoleg to stand up, moving over towards the window with a smile on his face. ”Yes, that’s it. Goooood Twoleg, open the nest.” A stitched-up hand scritched a special spot between Belphegor’s ears and he rolled his head into the sensation, purring. Now wasn’t the time for affection, but coming from someone who’d ignored him moments prior, it felt amazing.
Which made his Twoleg moving away from him feel like a cold cuff to the heart. The man looked around, left and right, under a table, then under a cupboard, and Belphegor’s stomach dropped the closer and closer he got to where he had been before. Another meow went ignored as his Twoleg got on all four paws to observe under the couch and Belphegor had to close his eyes, adamant their plan had failed before it even started. Then, he heard footsteps towards the doors, and they were promptly shut. His ears twitched, his gaze widening and going back towards the floor as if scanning for a mouse.
He almost missed his twoleg pulling the window frame upwards, the breeze brushing against his ginger-and-black fur, the positive affirmation that he was free to leave if he wanted to. But it wasn’t Belphegor who wanted to go. As if changing his mind, he moved to the closed door and began meowing at that instead. ”Nooooow come over here and open this part of the nest for me. Yes…. very good, feel free to check it, he’s not there.”
Silversmoke’s head popped out from behind the curtains, grey fur pressed against grey fabric, his heart beating so loudly he swore the whole world could hear it. The tortoiseshell guiding his Twoleg away as if he were the master and not the other way around had given him an opportunity he would never get again. A cone still sat around his neck, his back still itching madly, his belly snarling for real food, feeling weakened by eating the bare minimum to survive, feeling weakened by the constant fear of being in a home that was not his own. He could still taste the Twoleg’s blood on his tongue, the necessary step to ensure he did not lose his pride as a wildcat. It did not matter how good the human’s intentions, when he was a cat who’d promised his destiny to the pines, to devote his death to his one true love.
He sucked in the air, lungs rattling at the sensation. ’I can do this…’
’I have to do this.’
The spotted tabby ran at the open window, leaping with all the strength his hindlegs could give him. StarClan did not bless the home of the stranger, when he felt his limbs stagger against his own weight, he saw a vision of the future - a cat in a cage, surrounded by shattered teeth and broken dreams. He kicked out, catching the sill with his hind claws, and pushing himself up and over.
He landed on his paws outside, pain shooting through his limbs and up to his spine, where three healing scars threatened to break free. Tufted ears shot up immediately as footsteps clattered on a wooden floor inside. Through the discomfort, he did not think, could not think, lest he wish to be inside his prison once more. Silversmoke darted towards the fence, leaping atop a wheelbarrow, then a miniature shed, then, the wooden panels themself, dangling on the edge until he could drag himself up once more.
From the vantage point, he could not see home, but a half-moon had not dulled his senses. He knew where it would be, where it would always be so long as he drew breath. Silversmoke turned his head in that direction, whiskers twitching as a fresh breeze caught them for the first time in too long. The scents were not of home, but be it by illusion or chance, he swore that, somewhere between the smoke and trash, there were faint remnants of pine, of a Daylight Warrior whom he hoped had been waiting for him all this time.
His head turned back towards the home, spine arching as he saw a familiar figure run towards him. “I am Silversmoke, of SkyClan!” He hissed to the Twoleg, uncaring that the beast could not understand him. “I’m going home. StarClan help you if you try and stop me.” A naked paw reached out and Silversmoke kicked down to the other side of the fence, breaking out into a sprint. He would not say goodbye to the kittypet that saved him, or the home that had sheltered him, lest his dream of the forest be dead once more.
All Silversmoke could do was run. Run and run, run past the point of agony in his legs, past the point where his lungs could seldom breathe the smog-filled air of his former territory.
He would run until he saw the pine forest, and run even further until he saw the clan he loved.
